


As Devil Does

by TheWillowBends



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Abandon All Hope All Ye That Enter Here Seriously, Accidental Voyeurism, Chloe Can't KNOW, Daniel Espinoza Sinks Lower than Hell, Fuckruary 2021 (Lucifer TV), Fuckruary 2021: Love is Love, Fuckruary 2021: New Ship, Fuckruary 2021: Supernatural Sex, Ghost Dan, Ghost Sex, Humor, Multi, Pre-S5B, Sex Humor, Speculative Content, True Suffering is Your Ex-Wife Dating the Devil, involuntary threesome, the devil made him do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:55:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29473587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWillowBends/pseuds/TheWillowBends
Summary: Being a ghost sucked, Dan decided.
Relationships: Chloe Decker & Dan Espinoza, Chloe Decker & Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker/Dan Espinoza/Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Dan Espinoza & Lucifer Morningstar, Dan Espinoza/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 21
Kudos: 82





	As Devil Does

**Author's Note:**

> No spoilers for 5B here. I have no idea what's going to happen. This is more based off speculative theories that have been going around that Dan may die since he's a character who's clearly afraid of Hell. I decided to go from there and remove any possible pathos you could attach to it by writing terrible porn.

Being a ghost sucked, Dan decided.

Dying hadn’t been much better, to be fair. After months in Hell, his memory was muddled, but he could still remember with perturbing and unsettling detail the way it felt to bleed out on warm concrete, hearing the lurching beat of his own heart and Chloe screaming and crying for help. Mostly, it was a source of embarrassment; the gunmen had _terrible_ aim, and the stray bullet that struck his neck and severed the carotid artery had been the poor luck of the draw, ricocheting off the concrete wall of the alleyway they chased him into.

He knew this because the demons had tormented him repeatedly with this fact as they had dangled before him all the lurid failures of his life, of which, he admitted, he had given them plenty of fodder. It would figure that a life characterized by a series of unfortunate events and equally unfortunate decisions would end just as rashly as it had been lived. He could have called for backup, Dan knew, or even just waited for Chloe to catch up and left well enough alone, but he had done none of that. Instead, he was here: dead, damned, and uncomfortably aware the devil holding his metaphysical leash wanted to fuck his ex-wife.

Said devil was laughing as he rattled off some story or another about his past, which everyone at the table now knew wasn’t some uncanny delusion or detailed lie and was all the more disconcerting for it. Dan half-listened to a story about Shakespeare and roses and a well-flowered pump, which, judging by the warning look Chloe sent him, was not as innocent as it sounded. He didn’t bother to figure it out; he was too preoccupied with the fact that he knew Chloe’s hand, hidden out sight beneath the table, had just given Lucifer’s thigh a gentle squeeze. He felt the echo of its touch on his own non-body, and it freaked him the fuck out.

Dan looked at the bracelet on his wrist, the way the smooth amethyst crystal looked deceptively ridiculous and inert. Then he glanced over at the matching one on Lucifer. The devil had taken an inordinate amount of glee turning the bracelet into a spiritual conduit, creating a tether that had allowed him to free Dan from the confines of his personal Hell and cross dimensional lines, and Dan questioned now whether he should have been more suspicious of his intent all along.

“Haven’t done this since the days before my sister took over the job, but look at us breaking the mold, Daniel,” he had said, infusing the objects with some kind of weird, celestial energy Dan tried not to think about too much in case doing so made his tiny, human brain melt. “Flouting all of Dad’s rules _and_ proving pure stone reharmonization _can_ be a valid source of soul purification. Remarkable, really. Who knew salvation could be bought in the discount bin of a vitamin shop?”

At the time, he had been too busy blubbering his thanks to think about the mechanics of it. Challenging Lucifer in front of his demons had seemed unwise, as well. After being told to stand down by Lucifer, they had stood around sullenly, looking almost like churlish, dour children told there would be no cake after supper. Literally so - one of them, dressed in Trixie’s body and riddled with bullet holes put there by Tiernan’s men, had sat on steps of Lucifer’s penthouse pouting until Lucifer had finally told it to run along and cheer itself up by torturing Mussolini for a while.

It was all sorts of fucked up, and Daniel Espinoza had questions, a lot of them, none of which he supposed either the devil or God would be interested in answering. Mysterious ways and all that, and Daniel found this was one mystery that may not be worth solving. He was still trying to get his mind around the fact that God also had an ex-wife, and Dan had slept with her.

Chloe’s hand hadn’t moved Lucifer’s thigh. In fact, it was now gently massaging it. He forced his attention away.

Dan watched Trixie pick through her spaghetti morosely. While she had been thrilled to see her father return to the land of the living, she had not been as pleased by his incorporeality. Ghost dads couldn’t give hugs or help color pictures or help with math homework. They also didn’t get paid, which meant her allowance was now split in half. Dan figured that was the real sticking point for her.

“You okay, baby?” he asked tentatively.

“Yeah, I guess,” she said, pushing noodles around in a pile that changed shapes as fluidly as an amoeba but never grew smaller.

“Don’t play with your food if you’re not going to eat it,” Chloe said sternly, making both glance at her guiltily.

Lucifer grinned. He wanted to say something inappropriate. Dan knew because he heard the thought coalesce in his own mind, fragments of _something something_ about playing with the things he enjoyed eating, and the sheer panic that welled up in Dan at having to hear more about Chloe’s sex life made him blurt out, “Please don’t.”

Chloe looked at him in confusion. “Please don’t what?”

Lucifer’s brow was furrowed in equal amounts of curiosity and consternation, and his mouth was turned down in an unhappy parabola, like somebody hadn’t offered _him_ a Mussolini to make up for disrupted torture. It was...unsettling. Like devil, like demons, he supposed.

“It’s just - it’s nothing,” Dan said hastily, placing his hands on (and slightly through) the table. “It’s just been a lot, you know? Especially for Trixie. Maybe she’s a bit overwhelmed.”

He watched as Chloe’s face softened, sympathy in her eyes. To his immense relief, her other hand reappeared to balance her as she leaned over to gently touch Trixie’s arm.

“It’s okay if you’re not hungry and aren’t going to finish,” Chloe said, her tone gentler now, “but let’s not make a mess. How about you go get a bath and start getting ready for bed, okay? I’ll clean up here.”

Trixie nodded, keeping her eyes down. “Yeah, I can do that.” Putting her fork down, she slid out of her seat, tossing thanks her mother’s way, before she quietly made her way upstairs to the bathroom.

Chloe frowned after her, turning to Dan with concern. “I’m really worried,” she said frankly. “She’s taking this hard - obviously, I know that more than anyone. I thought Lucifer bringing you here might settle things a bit until I got her in with a therapist, but…”

“Well, her father’s dead,” Lucifer said bluntly. “Whilst I am no expert on human offspring, from what I understand, some of them rather like their paternal progenitors and are quite distressed when they lose them. I mean, there’s no accounting for taste,” he said, gesturing Daniel’s way, “but it’s not like she had a choice in the matter.”

“Thanks, man,” Dan said dryly.

“You are _most_ welcome, Daniel.”

“Enough you two.” She sighed, pushing back her own plate. “This is the second meal she’s barely eaten today. I may have to ask Linda if she can do a few sessions with her until the schedule opens up with the local child psychology office.”

“I’m sure things will get better,” Dan said, trying to be positive. “I think it’s just overwhelming for all of us, especially since we don’t exactly know what the next step is from here. I mean, can’t stay ghost-dad forever.”

“Yes, my sister is bound to pop up and try to cart you off at some point or another, which is why I had Amenadiel totter off to speak to Dad about all of this. Quite the spot of bother for all of us if we remain this way.” Lucifer glanced at his cuff line, frowning at the bracelet. “Especially since it comes with _such_ unflattering accoutrement.”

“Yes, well, I suppose you’re right that it’s a waiting game right now,” Chloe said, getting up from the table. She stacked her plate with Lucifer’s, then grabbed Trixie’s on the way back to the kitchen. Dan had nothing to offer her since ghosts could neither eat nor do dishes.

Waiting until she was out of ear shot a little, Dan turned to Lucifer. “So, these...bracelets. Well, whatever you did with them. They link me to you, correct?”

“All I did was alter the dimensional context of your spiritual assignment by tethering it to my own power, Daniel. Hardly difficult, just not something my Father typically allows.”

As if anything in that sentence made sense. If he had real teeth to grind, Dan would be doing it now.

“Right, so...since nobody has really done it before, are you there isn’t a reason your father wouldn’t have wanted it done? Like, uh, side effects or anything?”

Lucifer sighed, exasperated, like Dan was a flea on the dog of his life. In fairness, it probably wasn’t that far off as a metaphor since he was, after all, the literal devil.

“Daniel, I did the only thing I could do at the time. Otherwise, you’d be downstairs with Gromos and Nux counting the holes Pony Boy left in your daughter. Would you prefer that, hmm?”

“No!” Daniel’s eyes widened in panic, glancing Chloe’s way. “And keep it down, dude. We agreed - well, we said you wouldn’t - “

“Tell Chloe about who exactly arranged that little tangle, eh? Well, no worries, Daniel. I am a devil of my word, as you know.” He smiled sharply, all solid, square white teeth, in a way that made Daniel nervous, recognizing its bite.

“Of course. I’m thankful that you helped me. It’s just…”

“We’ll do what we must,” Lucifer said, brushing invisible lint from his sleeve. “Certainly, we must think of the little urchin. Things around here would get awfully boring around here if she were to become a despondent recluse. Spent some time around a few of those in the Victorian years - lot of whiners, they were. Great poetry, though.”

Daniel nodded dumbly, though he hid the relieved smile he knew Lucifer wouldn’t appreciate. The devil may not be very fond of him, but he had a soft spot for Trixie, a little like the kind you found on a baby’s head - a curious oddity that you did not push for everybody’s health and safety.

“My only concern,” he said, “is that it’s almost like we’re connected.”

“We are, Daniel. Your spirit is literally tied to me.”

“Yes, but how literal exactly is that because I’m getting, well - ”

Before he could continue, Chloe walked back in announcing she should probably get ready for bed, too. Daniel snapped his mouth shut, not wanting to worry her more. She had enough on her plate between Trixie and the new case load.

“There’s some paperwork upstairs that I need to go over tomorrow, but otherwise, I think we’re all pretty beat.”

“I’ll help you go sort it out,” Lucifer said as he stood. “No reason your partner can’t help you.” The smile he aimed at her was noticeably warmer and affectionate than anything Dan had ever seen on his face. When Chloe smiled back, Dan wondered idly if he had ever done anything in his life to make her that happy.

“Of course. I guess I’ll...stay here?” Daniel said, feeling oddly useless. Reading documents was difficult without a body whose eyes could properly refract light.

“I’ll turn on the tv,” Chloe said kindly. “Maybe it’ll be easier than the books were earlier.”

“Thanks.”

He watched them go upstairs shortly after, settling into a chair with a high back. Squinting did nothing to clarify the image, but it wasn’t as difficult as reading. The picture was larger and less precisely formed than letters, so Dan settled in for what he assumed would be a half hour of waiting for the blurriest hour of evening news ever. It was certainly better than being alone with his thoughts, all of which were a tad gloomy and depressing at the moment.

Five minutes in, something happened. Something...odd.

Dan shifted, a sensation of tingling running through him. There were a lot of weird things about being a ghost, but one of the strangest was the dulled senses. Temperature and smell were particularly affected; earlier, he had put his hand on the running burner and hadn’t noticed until he had Chloe had come in and been startled so badly she had dropped the entire case file on the floor. It had occurred to him then that Lucifer had been keeping him out of sight for good reason.

This was different, though. He squirmed, as much as a ghost can squirm, feeling something like heat rush through him. Then the tingling again, more localized, focused in his lower belly. It radiated out, sending flames of something almost good licking along the nerves he no longer had. Dan frowned, trying to figure it out, when suddenly he gasped, feeling a jolt of pleasure very clearly centered in his ghost groin.

“Oh my God,” he said. “Oh my God, _no._ No. No. No. No. No.”

Panic went through him as the feeling escalated, a warmth that pooled in his belly, creating tiny pinpricks of sensation along parts of his body he had forgotten existed as a ghost and promptly wanted to forget again. He jumped up from the couch with a yelp, hot terror running through him. On the television, the newsperson was announcing a rise in the stock market following last week’s dip, but Dan didn’t hear any of it; his own stock was rising in the market of horror.

“ _Please,_ no,” he groaned, and sent a furious look both to God and to the bedroom above his head where apparently the devil wasn’t dancing in the moonlight but _was_ doing the horizontal mambo with his ex-wife.

Flashes of sight, sound, and thought begin flickering though his mind, like a badly damaged film reel running on a projector. Touch first, like the whispered caress of a warm hand, and the echo of Chloe’s sweet laughter, her eyes looking up at him twinkling mischief, and then something like wet heat - _Oh my God_ , he thought in horror, _this is happening._ He was getting an involuntary front row seat to the devil getting a blowjob.

Up until this point, he had kept his eyes to Heaven hoping his prayers would be heard, but when he glanced down to see his ghost jeans were stretched around a very real and obvious ghost erection - _why was that a thing?_ \- he knew that the God that had made him really was as unjust and merciless as Lucifer had always claimed.

“What the _fuck_?” he whispered. Then a wave of proxy arousal hit him so hard he bent forward groaning, sucking in a breath for lungs he didn’t have as he steadied himself with his hands on his knees. His ghost dick twitched in his pants, and he repeated loudly, on the edge of hysteria, “ _What the absolute fuck._ ”

Dan glanced around frantically, because if there was certain to be a time for Trixie to make an inopportune appearance, this would be it, and that thought compounded his horror and drove it to such unimaginable heights that he lurched forward, hurtling toward the downstairs bathroom. For once he didn’t even bother with the door handle, phasing through the door as fast as he could, something he had mostly avoided because doing so triggered a kind of existential panic that was typically unproductive, but he had a far more serious psychic dilemma at hand.

In the bathroom, Dan took a moment to look himself in the mirror, only to remember he couldn’t, and that alone nearly pushed him over the edge, so he forced his eyes down where they confronted the hands of his cock clock informing him the time was _now._ It greeted him like a punch in the face, and he shivered, feeling like he was on the receiving end of the worst kind of cosmic reach around.

Dan remembered that Lucifer had told him that souls self-actualized, that his current appearance was an expression of his own memory of himself rather than any true reflection of his physical condition. Dan also thought Lucifer was full of shit because there was nothing he wanted to actualize more completely than to _not_ exist in this moment, yet he remained intact to experience it with each and every increasingly hateful second. He wondered briefly if he was still in Hell and all of this was just playing out in his head, but then Lucifer’s consciousness swung a left hook and hit him with a clear and certain image of Chloe on her hands and knees, moaning like a banshee on the prowl, and Dan knew it was all terribly real because he was keenly and intimately aware from personal experience that was her favorite position, which meant Lucifer knew it was her favorite position, and everything was awful.

“No, no, no, no,” he whispered fiercely, reluctantly pressing a ghost hand against his ghost dick to try and calm it down, like it was an unruly Rottweiler tugging hard at the leash. It could not be soothed, not the least of which because Lucifer was really in the thick of it now and must have reached around to play with Chloe’s breasts because the next thought that came crashing into his mind was some fragmented run on of _these tits are amazing_ and goddamnit, yes they were, he knew because he used to be married to them!

Dan glared hatefully down, knowing what he had to do and resenting every second of it. Neither erections or self-loathing were uncommon intrusions in his life, but he generally did his best not to mix them because that was a journey down a well from which he was uncertain to surface, but now he stood at the edge and looked into the abyss of madness. Unsnapping the ghost button on his jeans, he freed his adversary from its elusive and cursed denim prison, and it launched outward like an exclamation point on the expletive laden shitshow of his life.

He jerked off with a kind of grim reluctance and distaste that would have made John Harvey Kellogg proud. Never in his life had masturbation been this anti-erotic. Dan hated himself with every tug and pull of his ghost cock, like each movement was a stroke of the lash against his spirit for every sin he had ever committed in his life. Hell was definitely other people, but Sartre could take a seat because no room sans an exit matched the nauseating horror of being on the receiving end of the devil’s live broadcast wet dream. It made something in him want to die, and then he remembered that he was _already dead_ , which meant it could not possibly get worse. He broke into slightly hysterical laughter, groaning as he worked himself desperately, knowing no salvation remained at the other end of this dark tunnel.

Eventually, Dan could feel that Lucifer was close, and he knew Lucifer was close because _he_ was close, a thought so psychologically troubling he dared not press further than its superficial realization. Mixed in with the onrush of sensation and pleasure, Dan could feel something like tenderness and affection trickling in through the cracks of his ghost brain, and under literally any other circumstance, Dan might have been touched, but not like this, and if anything, it only made it worse knowing his ex-wife was getting dicked down by Satan and loving it _and_ being loved for every second of it while he lone rangered it in a downstairs bathroom like a horny poltergeist.

His ghost groin tightened as he gasped and stroked his way through one of the most agonizing orgasmic buildups of his life, one filled not only with the unbelievable horror of knowing the devil was going to make him come but that his ex-wife was too. Bracing himself against the sink, he changed his movements to short, hard strokes, focusing most of the attention on the head of his ghost cock intently. Emotionally, he was strung out worse than a heroin junkie on a three-day bender, and he was ready for it to be done and over with. He embraced oblivion knowing it couldn’t possibly be worse than the past ten minutes of his existence.

The orgasm struck him like a knife in the back, painful and swift, his mind blanking as Lucifer’s did the same, and wasn’t that a bitch to know they shared _even that_. It was horribly, hatefully good, one of the best he ever had. Dan huffed and gasped and choked out a groan as he jerked himself through it, staring in a kind of shocked horror as ghost cum - _why was that a thing_! - dribbled out of his cock, dripping down to the floor and evaporating mid-air with an evanescent sparkle.

Dan stood there for a long minute, catching his breath, staring into the void where it definitely gazed back at him. After a few minutes, when it felt like his soul had managed to crawl out of it, he tucked himself away quietly, zipping up his ghost jeans calmly. He looked at the mirror and was for once relieved his reflection wasn’t there. He wasn’t sure he could handle looking himself in the ghost eye right now. He needed all his mental resources available to deal with facing Lucifer and Chloe after this.

Chloe could never know about this, he thought, then reiterated it more firmly to himself that she. must. never. know. He made himself repeat that mantra a few more times before finally leaving the bathroom, not even bothering to use the door.

By the time Chloe and Lucifer came back downstairs, a pep in their step he knew all too well, he had returned to his position on the couch watching the news. On the television, the weatherman was reporting a series of storms heading into the area, which was good because California was on fire again. He let the banality of this event wash over him like a soothing balm.

Eventually, Lucifer came into the room, whistling a little tune Dan couldn’t place but immediately hated. His hair was mostly still in order, but a few hairs were falling out of place, and Dan tried very hard not to think about it, keeping his attention riveted on the tv screen. He only turned when Lucifer’s whistle abruptly cut off, looking up to see the devil himself staring down at him, his preferred position. He could hear Chloe’s voice in the kitchen.

“The Detective’s on the phone with my brother right now. Apparently, we’ve caused quite a stir in the Silver City with my antics - not that it’s anything to be proud of considering how boring the lot of them are, but he’s brought some news as it were, along with one of my siblings, Kepharel. Total wanker, but we’ll see what he’s on about.”

“Okay,” Dan answered, nodding, because everything was totally fine and existence was not a curse.

Lucifer glanced at him quizzically, his brow furrowing. “Well, I would’ve thought that a little more exciting than that.” He narrowed his eyes a little, looking him over. “My goodness, Daniel, you look awful - more so than usual, even. Why, you look like you just saw a you!”

Lucifer’s mouth curved into a smile, amused at his own joke, and Dan mirrored it tightly, slightly manic in a way that made Lucifer’s fade rather quickly. He raised an eyebrow as Dan leaned over and shut off the television, since electronics were bizarrely easy to manipulate as a ghost.

“Yeah, about that. We gotta talk.” He glanced back at the kitchen, seeing Chloe was still on the phone, then looked back at Lucifer, at his stupid, handsome face that had just gotten off his ex-wife and given him the best orgasm of his life. He took a deep breath his ghost lungs didn’t need.

“I think I know why your Dad banned the ghost thing.”


End file.
